In Italia
by Digimage
Summary: Part 3 of 3: At a World Meeting, France stumbles upon something new about Spain. What does that have to do with dancing and breakfest?
1. Chapter 1

In Italia (part 1)

It was during a normal world meeting that the normal argument ended up straying into a new territory. This in of itself was not new, despite their ages there was always something new to try. This topic however was one of the most heated of the year with the comments passed back and forth. As usual it was between the bitter rivals France and England though several other nations had added their own comments. Also as usual when France was involved, it was about the matter of sex. Well, not quite sex, it was actually about turn ones, accents specifically.

"Ah, ma Cherie, you could never understand the affect that my magnificent French has on people. As a beautiful Romance language it could be nothing less." France stated. "Damn frog, I understand that that language of yours is a turn off. It could never compare to my English!" England spat back, America giving a small nod behind him in full support of his boyfriend. France turned his attention to both "Of course you would support your lover l'Amérique, you're one the first to find his horrible words a turn on, are you not?" giving a lecherous grin as their faces flamed. "England as well, I see the way you look at him when he slips into one of his accents, oui. But still I must protest that my language is the best, yours could never compete, and the only one who could ever match up to the Language of Amour is the Language of Passion, oui Spain?"

Italy, who had been half listening to the argument spoke up, an adorable pout on his face, "Big brother France what about our language?" The blond turned to the brunette and gave a charming smile "Yours is the language of Romance my dear Italy, it doesn't stir the passionate fires of Amour as ours does, oui Espagne?" He asked again, looking for an agreement, whenever there was an argument between him and England Spain always sided with him out of spite for the Brit. But when he only heard silence a small frown grew on his handsome face as he looked at his friend. Spain was staring into the space above his left shoulder with a peculiar expression on his face. "Spain?" The man's expression didn't change simply staring into space but as France looked closer he began noticing something, something that drew a mischievous grin onto his face, "Spain are you blushing?" Several other nations had turned their attention to the Europeans; the argument had been winding down but France's introduction of Spain had the potential to turn it back into a fiery war of words and thrown objects. They paid even closer attention as Spain was not known for passing up on a good argument with England.

The Spaniard finally snapped out of it "Que? What was that France?" France was still watching him through narrowed eyes, it had been awhile since he had seen Spain like this and he wanted to know why. Thoughts of continuing his argument with England were pushed to the side in wake of this new situation. "I said that the only language that could compete with the language of love in the sheets was the language of passion and I asked if you agreed. You do, do you not?"

Spain took no notice of the look France was giving him and England's curses as that peculiar expression slipped on his face again before a sheepish look replaced it in a split second his blush reddening the slightest bit. "Actually France I-"he couldn't continue as another voice interrupted him "Oi bastardo are the tea and wine bastards done arguing yet?" Romano plopped into the empty seat next to the green eyed man. He had been in another corner of the room watching Prussia run away from an angry Hungary and her frying pan. "What?" he asked inching himself back slightly when Spain's head whipped around to stare wide eyed at him, a slight blush on his cheeks.

He looked at France who was watching them with an intrigued expression "Bastard, what did you do to him" "Me, I did nothing. I merely asked if he agreed that Spanish was as good as French for getting one's lover in the mood." "Bastard, what about Italian?" Romano retorted "No, ma Cherie, Italian is a language of Romance, it is better suited for the…" he paused "The 'warm fuzzy feelings' or when the mood is over."

Romano glared, his lips turning into a frown as he cast a look back at his lover who was still staring at him. France watched a surprised expression flitting across his face when a smirk appeared on the Italian's face, his posture shifting as he turned his chair to face the practically gaping country. "Is that so?" he spoke his voice dropping an octave. The other countries were now quiet watching as his eyes grew even wider and a noticeable twitch run through the Spanish nation at those words. "Wine bastard, you saying something about my language before right?" The olive eyed youth cast a sly look back at France then dismissing his presence as he turned his smug smirk back on his boyfriend. "Spagne" he said watching Spain give an audible swallow "Si mi amor?" the curly haired man choked out. The Mediterranean nation leaned forward slightly, eyes lowering to half-mast and smirk still present, ignoring the click of Hungary's camera "Dove fuggi." he crooned and waited for the reaction.

Spain stiffened before springing up from his chair a dark expression taking over his face. He grabbed his lover and hauled him over his shoulder remarking something in Spanish that had Romano looking positively gleeful as the man charged out the room like a bull on a rampage. As the door slammed closed the room was left in a dead silence as the nation's sat there stunned by what had just taken place. "What the hell was that?" Prussia remarked "I do believe the frog was just proven wrong." England replied too in shock to enjoy it. France was too busy pondering what he was going to do with this new information.


	2. Chapter 2

In Italia (part 2)

Spain was cursing to himself in his head as he stormed from the room to the closest elevator. Thank god that this meeting was being held in a hotel or this would have taken a whole lot longer. Spain was drawn back into his thoughts as a hand grazed his ass lighting the fire again that had surged through him when his little Roma had spoken those words. Saying those two words in _that_ tone, with his eyes just begging Spain to take him _now_.

It was all Romano's fault that he was like this. If he hadn't been singing that song when Spain had come home from a meeting then he never would have found out that he _really_ liked when Romano talked just like _that_, that thrice damned tone. He could still recall that night easily, another shiver threatening to work its way up his spine, absently listening to Romano curse at him over his shoulder.

Spain stepped through the door, groaning as he kicked his shoes off as it closed behind him. Today had been exhausting. Right now he just wanted to grab his Lovi and cuddle with him in their bed. He stopped daydreaming for a second as a noise from the kitchen drew his attention along with another, slightly unfamiliar sound. As he walked toward the kitchen the sound got clearer and he realized where he knew it from. Romano was singing! He grinned; Romano almost never sang and almost always stopped when he noticed Spain was there. He had taken to hiding whenever he found him singing, listening quietly to him. He thought his lover had a good voice and had said it to only to get a tomato to the face and a furious blush. His grin stretched wider as he remembered how Romano had helped him clean up and been the slightest bit nicer to him for a few days afterword.

As he peeked around the corner he paused to take in the picture. Romano was wearing a simple apron, his hips swaying slightly as he quietly sung along with the song coming through the radios' speakers, moving expertly round the kitchen. Spain stopped himself from squealing at the sight. Romano was cooking dinner, today was turning out to be much better then he thought. He pondered on what to do next as the song came to an end, should he stay for a little while longer or go back and make some noise to let Romano know he was home? If Romano found him hiding, he would probably end up with another tomato to the face. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) the decision was made for him when the next song came on. It sounded sharper and deeper but that was not what made him freeze in place.

Romano had starting dancing a bit more to this new tune his swaying seductively. Spain's eyes were transfixed on Romano in an instant taking in the smirk that was pulling at the ends of his mouth just barely seen as he sang. The light that entered his eyes as he let his closely held guard down for the moment. It was an Italian rap song, the lyrics incomprehensible to him as he watched his lover continue cooking, a small fire lighting up his veins.

He came back to the moment when the chorus came on. What happened next had his blood roaring south unexpectedly and unsure of if he should be thanking the heavens or cursing them. The song had been turned down so Romano voice had been the loudest, quiet as it was. It was the sudden new tone that had him scrambling for control. A second voice had come on and Romano had matched it with his giving it a rasping crone that Spain had never heard before. It passed and Romano's voice had returned to normal but Spain was stood stock still.

Heat jolted through him as Romano looked over his shoulder and met his eyes the smirk growing larger at the edges of his lips. As they stared at each other Romano's lips never stopped moving with the lyrics but now no sound came out which just added to the moment. The moment ended when with another 'In Italia~' Romano added his voice to the music again. This time it sounded even more alluring especially when Romano narrowed his eyes and turned to fully face him, leaning against the counter.

The words were nonsense to Spain; it was the _way_ Romano was saying them that was driving him up the wall. The coy smile that was stretching across his face was not helping. Spain gulped trying to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat. The only sound was the faint beat of the rap song in the background.

Romano suddenly speaking was both a welcome relief and a new kind of torture. Because now Spain wanted him to talk like 'that' again. Even after all this time Romano still found ways to surprise him. "Like what you see bastard?" Romano said teasingly over the island between them. Spain kept quiet, he wasn't sure if he could talk even if wanted to. He wasn't even sure if he could move, not without jumping his lover.

One smooth, trimmed eyebrow arched and his expression got even more mischievous. "Or was it something you heard?" he purred voice lowering. He full out grinned at the twitch that managed to work its way down his arm. He pushed off the counter to lean completely over the island-only a few feet, only a few strides- "You know bastard I still haven't paid you back for the last time I was over. What do you think would be the best…payback?"

Spain's eyes widened and a wave of heat flared up his neck to settle on his cheeks. He remembered that, oh he remembered the last time very well. "I…" he stopped to clear his throat" S-Sing…that l-last song" he managed. The eyebrow arched again, "Just that, I don't see what so special about that." Romano said but the knowing look gave him away. "I know I don't sing often but it's never gotten you this…bothered."

"But if you really want me to I won't deny you" he said generously. He pushed off the island but instead of turning back to cooking-part of him wanted to so he could get ahold of himself- he walked around the island to stand not even three feet in front of him-to close, not close enough-.

"You know" Romano began "I couldn't help but notice that there was one part of that song that you really liked." Spain froze, he wondered if he would faint from not getting any air. Was he going to…how did he know…he couldn't…would he? "So I think I'll skip all that and get right to best part" he murmured leaning closer. His mouth opened and Spain braced himself for the tone he knew was coming, really he thought he should make it illegal for Romano to talk like that, at least to anyone but him.

~Ci sono cose che nessuno ti dira'~…

He hadn't been able to hold back after that and had hauled his lover to their bedroom abandoning the half-done dinner for later. After that day he gained a new appreciation for Italian, particularly the Italian over his shoulder that was still cursing though there was no bite to his words.

The elevator gave a ding that he ignored as it arrived on their floor and practically bolted out of the metal box before the doors were fully open. One hand still firmly held the other nation to him as the other fumbled in his pocket searching for the key card their room. Succeeding he tore it from its place and gave a desperate swipe to the card reader over the handle. He almost slipped when the lithe form on his shoulder moved slightly; he felt one hand propping the man up so he wasn't hanging down his back anymore. It was the sudden hot breath in his ear that had him wanting to just forget the whole attempt and use the nearest wall, but his mind rebelled. He would not risk someone seeing his Romano like that, only he could see him like that.

He didn't need to look to see the smirk that was on his lips as he finally got the card in the slot. He froze when that tone filled his ear, egging him on even more. Forcing the door open after the he slid the card and the light turned green, he stormed into the modest hotel room. Just before the door closed behind them you could see Romano's smirk turn into a triumphant grin. He would have to remember to thank America for the advice on how use his music so effectively. Despite everything the hamburger bastard knew what he was talking about. Spain said nothing as he threw his precious cargo onto the large bed still crooning in that tone that drove him wild before pouncing. Mouths connected in a heated kiss as the last of the chorus drifted into the night.

~Nato nel paese delle mezze varita'~

~Dove fuggi~


End file.
